[There's something kind of charming about Soleum being attached to a stuffed rabbit toy.]
[But only kind of. He's curious, but he still doesn't probe deeper. Choi sucks on the filter as he considers the suggestion of candy - or rather, of finding something else to distract him with.]
Mmm... Candy wouldn't be too different, I think. One reason I don't like smoking anymore is because less people do it now.
[This isn't quite the case. The truth is that Agent Choi takes his smoke breaks by himself for a reason. He uses the excuse that less people smoke, but it's more that he knows no one in Hyunmu 1 does. In the past he had seniors who he would smoke with, he wasn't lying about that. But now, he's the only one, and the silence on the smoker's deck is what he needs sometimes. When the stress gets too stifling, it's a relief to know that area will be empty and waiting for him.]
[But it's lonely, to isolate yourself. He knows it's not how he should handle this. But it's so easy - So simple. The way his pulse will thrum softer, the scent cloaking away everything else...]
[Speaking of isolation.]
We'd better get back, before the food is cold. [He drops the cigarette into a tray on top of the trash can, coughing slightly.] Are you ready to bike a little further? I'll hold onto the bag. Make sure you drink some water, you sweat out your whole supply on the way, Grapes. [More like raisin.]
[ If only Soleum knew what thoughts lived in Agent Choi's head. The reason why he teases him so much, the secrets he refuses to give away easily — then, he wouldn't have to wonder. And then he wouldn't have to wonder why he's wondering, the question gnawing at him like a daily riddle.
But he doesn't know, and he can't. So once the conversation hits a natural lull, his cigarette bud joins the senior agent's, the two sticks left behind in the ash tray seeming to send them off with a wave of the remaining wisps as they head back on their way. The ride's smoother, in no small thanks to the cooling temperatures as night spreads itself across the sky in a thick shroud. Bright streetlights gild their commute back to the bureau, the chime of their bicycle alerting pedestrians that they're coming from behind. The roads are still heavily populated with vehicles but that's how the city is, and it doesn't impede upon their eventual arrival through the gated entryway.
They make a quick stop by Human Resources to drop off the the weathered bike with a different inventory specialist. The other one most have finished his shift.
Inside the elevator headed down to their designated team waiting room, Soleum's leaned up against the side wall, hanging on to the railing. The sweat from the side of his head smudging the reflective surface. His water bottle's almost down to the bottom. At the very least, there's air conditioning. After this, he's heading straight to his locker, hanging up his coat, and catching the next bus ride home.
The elevator dings. The doors sweep open. ]
It was a long day, sir, but I hope you have a good rest of your night, [ he says, slipping off his uniform jacket and folding it over his arm. ] I'll see you tomorrow.
[It's an easy trip back. The setting sun is still warm and the air is still humid but there's a pleasant breeze as they zip through the city center to the bureau. Some kids point at the bike and laugh, others watch with half smiles as they pass. It's an odd sight for sure, two adults riding a tandem bike with a bag of tteokbokki over one handlebar, but Choi doesn't mind the attention. Seeing civilians smiling is nice. It's a friendly reminder to why he likes his job as much as he do.]
[Inventory glances at Choi with a questioning look as he shrugs at them while they turn in the bicycle, like, No clue how I ended up with that thing! He'll have to fill out the paperwork for the lost bike before the end of the week, but he's not thinking about it right now. The contaminated items are dropped off and signed for and when they're headed into the waiting room to strip off their jackets and leave the day behind, Soleum already seems well and ready to head home.]
[Which, home for him is interesting, since Choi is aware it isn't a set place at the moment. So what is there to be so excited to return to? He opens the door to the waiting room with a cheery greeting, but inside it's empty. No Bronze. He hangs in the doorway for a moment, surprised, then sees a message on the whiteboard:
Agents Choi & Grapes: Headed home first, see you tomorrow Good work today. -Bronze
Ahh... He's already gone. [He lets the door close behind Soleum, padding over to his desk slowly.] Hmm, want to finish this with me? I put some beer in the fridge. We're off the clock, should we have a drink?
[ So that was Agent Choi. He could have guessed that one. With all their post-mission dinners so far, he's starting to get a feel for his preference in alcohol.
Soleum stays close to the door, uncertainty fluttering in his gaze, but his jacket starts to droop lower down his arm and that appears to prompt him to move. He readjusts the sling of it as he pushes inside, drifting nearer to the dry erase board to read Agent Bronze's note for himself. ]
Does that feel like a good idea to you? [ He turns just so that the unsure look he sends Agent Choi can't be missed. ] We may be off-clock, but we're still — here, on the premises.
[ Wasn't there a rule about alcoholic consumption in the handbook? That thing was over a hundred page, and he read all of it from front the back after his admission into the bureau, not wanting to risk termination over a mere break of protocol. ]
Do you and Agent Bronze do that often in the waiting room?
[Soleum gives him an unsure glance and Choi returns it with a too-innocent blink. What's wrong with a couple beers after a long day?]
It's fine, it's fine. I mean, after a few long recovery missions, Bronze and I have tossed a few back, sure...
[He trails off, his mind wandering as he closes the fridge, a beer in each hand. Usually they've both been too exhausted to speak on those days. Ache and exhaustion seated over them, freed from medical check-ups and on their way to normalcy. Seated beside each other in this waiting room, a liminal not-quite-real space. A thought coming every time - Is another call going to come while we just sit here? And then, Surely someone else will take that one.]
...Sometimes, it's what you need. To take a seat in a place you know is secure, somewhere with nothing to trick you.
[Choi sits down on the couch, cracking one beer open. The foam fizzles and the liquid inside bubbles and he takes a slow, gradual sip before sighing and leaning back. A cold beer and hot food in air conditioning - It's definitely a good situation.]
Today wasn't too bad, but - It's a little grounding, being here, isn't it? You feel a little steady, right?
[He invitingly pats the spot beside him. Come on, humor him a little, hubei.]
[ Somewhere with nothing to trick you, he says, as if he isn't talking to the biggest trickster in the room. If this place isn't safe from Soleum, then it isn't safe from anything. His coat lands on top of his desk. Soleum doesn't take him up on his offer of the place right beside him, but he does sit on the arm of the couch, a safe distance apart. He can stay, just for a short while.
The dark outline of his scar quivers along the notches of his throat as he surely empties a quarter of the can into his stomach. He really has done this a number of times, without repercussion, hasn't he? ]
There are a lot of items left behind by others here, [ Soleum says, politely glancing about. Right before their mission into the ocean palace, they had a similar conversation about this place. The haunted painting one of his old teammates brought in. The leftover notes, not just scrawled on the board, but left all over the room: in old case files, stuck to the bottom side of his desk drawers, even etched into the wood of their coffee table. It's a place that's never solely belonged to one person, but seems to have indiscriminately welcomed all sorts of people these past several years.
Back then, he'd called it pleasant, but — yes, Agent Choi is right. It is steadying, knowing it's somewhere that will be here long after Soleum has left.
Finally, he takes the other can left on the table, pinching the tab open. ]
Whenever I come here, it has a warm feeling. It's no wonder you leave a bunch of home goods lying around.
[Soleum sits on the edge of the couch as if he's ready to stand up and head out at any moment. It's almost a relief he picks up the beer. Choi watches him, the can held to his lips, then slowly reaches over and tugs on his sleeve.]
You don't want to sit?
[C'monnnnn. Relax with your sunbae who you spent all afternoon with. He stares up at him expectantly.]
This place is like a home to us - Bronze feels the same way. [Hence the "home goods." The notes on the board, the beer in the fridge for long days. The blankets in the closet, the silly plastic desk figures they've gotten from grocery stores as free promotional items. But is it because it's all things from other people that Grapes doesn't feel as if it's "his" home, too?]
Even though this is a workplace, it's part of who we are. That's why it feels like home.
[He leans his head back on the sofa, still staring up at him expectantly. The tilt of his head reveals the long length of his scar, jagged and rough.]
[ The tug draws his attention off to the side, the greenish veins of his wrist peeking out from where his cuff sleeve has been plucked between his senior's fingers. Fingers that have been stabbed and scraped and nearly severed, now looking no better than a kid's pulling at an adult's compass in order to lead them where they want.
A perplexed knit forms at his brow, listening to him equate home to this windowless room, where a part of their elder still lingers behind a thickset drape. It's not like he disagrees with the sentiment. There's no wonder why they would be attached to this place, to this organization, what they and others before them have been fighting for.
There's a thump as Soleum slides, lands on the couch seat. He gently withdraws his hand from Agent Choi, casting a sidelong look his way. Happy? ]
You should eat some more of the leftover tteokbokki, [ he says, lifting his beer to his mouth with both hands, as if it were a tea cup and not cheap alcohol. ] Since we were saving some, I'm sure didn't have enough.
[Soleum moves to sit down beside him and Choi smiles, clearly pleased that it took no extra nagging. He releases him without fight and reaches to pick up the closed box from the covered table.]
Right, right. No use in it going to waste now. Here, you have some, too.
[Now they actually have chopsticks and the food is much cooler, much easier to eat, and washing it down with cold beer helps with the burn from the sauce. He sighs as he sits back and kicks a foot up onto the table.]
I'm going to be tasting this on my tongue all night, now. [He sucks off a bit of sauce from his thumb, glancing at him.] A hot day, and a hot meal... It's best to finish both off with a cold drink and air conditioning. Right?
[He smiles like he made a joke, there, even though there was no punchline, but slowly the smile weakens a little as he looks at Soleum, seems to consider what he's about to say.]
What do you think - Could a place like this be somewhere you feel you belong completely, Grapes?
[ In reality, he was afraid this was the direction Agent Choi was steering the conversation. But by staying put for a while longer, not excusing himself when he could, Soleum essentially gave him a free window to ask. After hounding him so long to stay as a permanent addition to the team, it's a given he would want to hear how he's faring… That's the job of his role on the team. Soleum understands that; he just wishes he had something easy to help him evade answering, honestly or dishonestly. It was easier when he could fall back on his initial struggle of trying to transfer out from the team.
Which leaves him with the question, now that some time has passed: What would the rookie of Black Tortoise 1, their Kim Soleum, say?
Scooted to the edge of his seat so that he's able to more conveniently reach the to-go box, it's not hard to avoid Agent Choi's gaze. He takes his time chewing on more rice cake, staring ahead at nothing in particular. ]
What does 'belong completely' mean to you, Agent Choi? Because I'm still not sure yet… I spent a long time at my previous company working toward a goal I wanted to give myself to in that same way, but…
[ Soleum shakes his head, as if to dismiss one of his darker thoughts. ]
I know the bureau and this team aren't a place like that. If possible, I'd like to continue understanding why that is.
[He can't help but chuckle when Soleum shakes his head, at the vague mention of that sham company. He picks up the second to last rice cake, squeezing it between his chopsticks and dragging it through the sauce.]
It's kind of like the boy from today, isn't it?
[He pops the rice cake into his mouth, speaking while eating.]
Many things linger in life because of their attachment to some sentimental object. Like a bicycle - Or even a bouquet, left by a mourner. A lot of things can trigger ghosts and spirits to hang back, and to cling to this world. But they can't take them with them - so all they end up doing is causing pointless pain.
[Small or large, that's their effect. Either through certain death or the annoyance of a lost bike, those supernatural hanger-ons are nothing but nuisances for them. Yet they're all based in sadness.]
When I think about it like that, it makes me appreciate the things I have right now. This space, my team, the faith people have in me... Those are things I can't bring with me when I have to be the one to move on. Even if I want them.
[As a function of this job, he thinks about his death more than most people. Rightly or wrongly, he assumes others like him are the same in that respect.]
...Maybe this is cruel, Soleum-ah, but when you move on, I hope that you remember this room. And me, too.
[ Soleum listens to Agent Choi casually speak about such existential matters like he's already experienced all there is to understand about that far shore, like he personally knows where the sky runs and ends between this place and the untold heaven not even the Dark Exploration Records is familiar with. Without realizing it, his eyes had risen to focus on him through a clearer lens, the dark of his gaze nearly gleaming red from behind his glasses.
For the first time, it hits him: He's so young. And yet the Agent Choi in the stories he read was consumed by a ghost story at this age, with that understanding of life, of his role, what he was willing to accept and make peace with, like it was something he was made for — which he was, he was written for it. Another thought bludgeons Soleum over the back of his head: Whatever transpires when he leaves, whether he escapes to his former employer in shame or hopefully returns to where he should have been all along, he won't know what happens to this person.
The inner linings of his heart run both hot and cold at once. Expanding, compressing. Leaving nothing in-between. ]
Am I a bicycle to you?
[ He hopes Agent Choi ignores it, the tautness squeezed around his voice, and just enjoys his pitiful attempt at a joke.
He needs another drink, so he takes a long one. Looks down at the leftover fizz bubbling in the rim of his can, his thumbnail scratching into the notch. ]
That's… not something you have to worry about. There are a lot of people who will remember you. [ This room, this team. What it was all for, and the torch that's been passed on. ] That ajumma, Agent Bronze-nim, the agents here… No matter where you go, there will be someone who wants to hang on to you. You're that kind of person.
[Choi's smile grows... pained, when Soleum says that. That's not the point, he wants to insist. He doesn't care about other people, if others will mourn him when he's gone, if they'll miss him or think about him. It's not what he was saying at all, but...]
[But isn't it just like their Grapes, to turn a selfish staement about clinging to life into something that makes Agent Choi seem better than he is? He did say he wanted to be more like him before. Is that what it is to him? Smoking, having people who respect him... That's surely not what he meant then, either, is it?]
[He drops his gaze for a moment, as if abandoning what he was going to ask. Then raises it. Still smiling, but it's still pained, too. A little uneasy, as if he's about to say something kind of embarrassing and even he recognizes it.]
Will you?
[His holds his drink between two fingers and his thumb. There's a long scar right beside his life line on his palm and he remembers making it, himself. Spilling blood to save Bronze from a monstrous beast, drawing its attention toward his scent. The anger in the other agent's eyes when he realized what he was doing. The betrayal, the fury that he would put himself at risk for his sake. But of course he would - he would do anything, at that moment, to make sure Agent Bronze came back with him. And that hand holding Soleum's beer, the one that occasionally shoots Choi a thumbs up as Soleum stares on in unenthused silence - isn't it proof they're so much the same already?]
[ Muttered to himself. His fingers drag through his ruffled hair, thinking, buying time.
It's not a set of words Soleum ever expected to hear from the agent, but it's not completely out of character; he was always a sentimental person. Someone who cares deeply for human life, and for the teammates that walk shoulder-to-shoulder with him into each disaster. Though different pockets of fans were more passionate about his relationship to certain other named characters, Soleum never participated or gave much thought to those discussions. Agent Choi was someone who cared for various people at various points of his story. That was just part of who he was and what made him so interesting.
Probably, it's just jarring for Soleum to hear, knowing that he isn't a fixture in this world. Confusion colors over the faint flush splitting his cheeks, hopefully enough to mask his fluster, or at least blame it on the beer. ]
Of course. I'm always thinking of the well-being of my seniors.
[ There was only ever going to be one correct answer to Agent Choi's questions. And it isn't the truth. ]
Um, would you like some wa…
[ The question never finishes. He's partially pushed off the couch, about to make toward the fridge, when, at last, he steals glance back at him — and somehow that worsens his awkwardness, seeing the uncertainty there in his smile amid the sheepishness. A little self-deprecating, like he knew already how Soleum was going to respond. He stumbles in that half-up, half-down position, grabbing on to the table to balance himself, a splash of his beer stickying the front of his shirt, dripping down the hand holding the can. Ah, really…
At least this he can handle. A few droplets dribble onto the table's surface as he places the can down, hurriedly sucking some of the liquid from his fingers to avoid dripping any further on the couch. But after a moment, he pauses at the futility, seeming to give up. ]
I'm sorry, sir, I… [ Ugh, where are his words right now? Soleum sighs. ] Have you ever heard… something called the 'crab-bucket effect'? It's when one person tries to grow or better themselves. But the others hanging on to them drag them back down.
[Like it's as easy as a ball of paper tossed from across the room, Soleum dodges the question. Choi's expression doesn't change, watching him, studying him - searching for the actual reply, the truth below it all. Why someone like him would put so much work into this department. This team. If someone like him who Choi has seen make reckless, selfless decisions so often would really be a cruel person. If someone who balks at a simple question about wanting to be craved could be capable of the terrible things he knows that scam of a business does.]
[He blinks out of the thoughts when the beer splashes and habitually reaches forward to help, but stills as Soleum recovers. He begins to lean to the side to fetch a pile of napkins left in the tteokbokki box but he only sets his hand on top of them when he starts giving more of a reply. Something more... Soleum-like. The kind of reply he was actually expecting, rather than the stale, bland one he first gave him.]
...What's with that - You think I'm not strong enough to pull us both out?
[He grins, looking a little smug. It's a facade, naturally, but it's fine for now.]
I've heard of that before. I don't think it works for people, though. We aren't mindless seafood, Soleum-ah, we all work together to better each other.
[He finally holds out the napkins but doesn't give them up, instead taking the chance to press them into his shirt, blotting at the spilled beer and reaching for his sticky hand next, still gleaming with the result of his own attempt to clean up.]
If I get drunk and Jaekwan-ie has to carry me home, he doesn't scold me for dragging him back into the bucket, right? You know?
[Like that's at all the same as what he's asking of Soleum. Like spending a tipsy night hanging off your junior's shoulder is the same as wanting your maknae to remember you when you're inevitably gone. Slowly he drags the napkin over his fingers, squeezing his wrist to keep him still as he speaks. If he gets up to get water or something stupid, he really might tackle him - so once his hand is dry he tosses the napkins to instead thread their fingers together. No escape now.]
Besides, what if outside the bucket is the deep fryer? [He rolls his thumb along the underside of Soleum's thumb, still looking at him with that hollow, default smirk.] You wouldn't feel bad for letting me go?
[ Everywhere is a deep fryer when you're in the Dispatch & Rescue Unit, he considers saying, but again, it'd be too obvious that he's deflecting the point. That he's trying too hard to ignore the edge of his thumbnail tracing down the sticky curve of his thumb to his palm. Their hands, interlaced with the vice of a crab's pincer. How it made the nerves underneath his wet shirt jump when the agent pressed down on his chest. He's rattled, he's sweating, and he has no idea what the agent is asking of him — if he's even asking, or just demanding it of him, at this point.
His fingers curl, putting up a weak struggle that ultimately goes nowhere, leaving their hands pressed wrist to wrist, veins against veins. This Agent Choi reminds him of the one he encountered in the Faceless Market, cornering him in a place he wasn't supposed to be. Like he's close to hitting gold after picking and wearing away at all of Soleum's locks and deadbolts.
But even back then, it hadn't been gold, he'd been after. It was something else. His dokkaebi hand rises, coming up as if to fend off the expectation in his senior's gaze. ]
If I had a bad feeling, I wouldn't let you go in blind. I'd leave everything I have to you…
[ That's how it comes out. A strained answer, at the end of his rope. ]
But you — you're not someone who changes his mind easily. If you were trying to leave to somewhere where you knew nothing about the risks, there must be a reason for it. Someone you could help. It wouldn't feel right to keep you away from that.
[ Behind his hand, Soleum body hunches into himself, his head hanging low as a frustrated sigh pushes out from him. ]
Ah, really! I-I wish you weren't so stubborn. Do you always have to go this far to push me around…?
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[But only kind of. He's curious, but he still doesn't probe deeper. Choi sucks on the filter as he considers the suggestion of candy - or rather, of finding something else to distract him with.]
Mmm... Candy wouldn't be too different, I think. One reason I don't like smoking anymore is because less people do it now.
[This isn't quite the case. The truth is that Agent Choi takes his smoke breaks by himself for a reason. He uses the excuse that less people smoke, but it's more that he knows no one in Hyunmu 1 does. In the past he had seniors who he would smoke with, he wasn't lying about that. But now, he's the only one, and the silence on the smoker's deck is what he needs sometimes. When the stress gets too stifling, it's a relief to know that area will be empty and waiting for him.]
[But it's lonely, to isolate yourself. He knows it's not how he should handle this. But it's so easy - So simple. The way his pulse will thrum softer, the scent cloaking away everything else...]
[Speaking of isolation.]
We'd better get back, before the food is cold. [He drops the cigarette into a tray on top of the trash can, coughing slightly.] Are you ready to bike a little further? I'll hold onto the bag. Make sure you drink some water, you sweat out your whole supply on the way, Grapes. [More like raisin.]
no subject
But he doesn't know, and he can't. So once the conversation hits a natural lull, his cigarette bud joins the senior agent's, the two sticks left behind in the ash tray seeming to send them off with a wave of the remaining wisps as they head back on their way. The ride's smoother, in no small thanks to the cooling temperatures as night spreads itself across the sky in a thick shroud. Bright streetlights gild their commute back to the bureau, the chime of their bicycle alerting pedestrians that they're coming from behind. The roads are still heavily populated with vehicles but that's how the city is, and it doesn't impede upon their eventual arrival through the gated entryway.
They make a quick stop by Human Resources to drop off the the weathered bike with a different inventory specialist. The other one most have finished his shift.
Inside the elevator headed down to their designated team waiting room, Soleum's leaned up against the side wall, hanging on to the railing. The sweat from the side of his head smudging the reflective surface. His water bottle's almost down to the bottom. At the very least, there's air conditioning. After this, he's heading straight to his locker, hanging up his coat, and catching the next bus ride home.
The elevator dings. The doors sweep open. ]
It was a long day, sir, but I hope you have a good rest of your night, [ he says, slipping off his uniform jacket and folding it over his arm. ] I'll see you tomorrow.
no subject
[Inventory glances at Choi with a questioning look as he shrugs at them while they turn in the bicycle, like, No clue how I ended up with that thing! He'll have to fill out the paperwork for the lost bike before the end of the week, but he's not thinking about it right now. The contaminated items are dropped off and signed for and when they're headed into the waiting room to strip off their jackets and leave the day behind, Soleum already seems well and ready to head home.]
[Which, home for him is interesting, since Choi is aware it isn't a set place at the moment. So what is there to be so excited to return to? He opens the door to the waiting room with a cheery greeting, but inside it's empty. No Bronze. He hangs in the doorway for a moment, surprised, then sees a message on the whiteboard:
Headed home first, see you tomorrow
Good work today. -Bronze
Ahh... He's already gone. [He lets the door close behind Soleum, padding over to his desk slowly.] Hmm, want to finish this with me? I put some beer in the fridge. We're off the clock, should we have a drink?
no subject
Soleum stays close to the door, uncertainty fluttering in his gaze, but his jacket starts to droop lower down his arm and that appears to prompt him to move. He readjusts the sling of it as he pushes inside, drifting nearer to the dry erase board to read Agent Bronze's note for himself. ]
Does that feel like a good idea to you? [ He turns just so that the unsure look he sends Agent Choi can't be missed. ] We may be off-clock, but we're still — here, on the premises.
[ Wasn't there a rule about alcoholic consumption in the handbook? That thing was over a hundred page, and he read all of it from front the back after his admission into the bureau, not wanting to risk termination over a mere break of protocol. ]
Do you and Agent Bronze do that often in the waiting room?
no subject
It's fine, it's fine. I mean, after a few long recovery missions, Bronze and I have tossed a few back, sure...
[He trails off, his mind wandering as he closes the fridge, a beer in each hand. Usually they've both been too exhausted to speak on those days. Ache and exhaustion seated over them, freed from medical check-ups and on their way to normalcy. Seated beside each other in this waiting room, a liminal not-quite-real space. A thought coming every time - Is another call going to come while we just sit here? And then, Surely someone else will take that one.]
...Sometimes, it's what you need. To take a seat in a place you know is secure, somewhere with nothing to trick you.
[Choi sits down on the couch, cracking one beer open. The foam fizzles and the liquid inside bubbles and he takes a slow, gradual sip before sighing and leaning back. A cold beer and hot food in air conditioning - It's definitely a good situation.]
Today wasn't too bad, but - It's a little grounding, being here, isn't it? You feel a little steady, right?
[He invitingly pats the spot beside him. Come on, humor him a little, hubei.]
no subject
The dark outline of his scar quivers along the notches of his throat as he surely empties a quarter of the can into his stomach. He really has done this a number of times, without repercussion, hasn't he? ]
There are a lot of items left behind by others here, [ Soleum says, politely glancing about. Right before their mission into the ocean palace, they had a similar conversation about this place. The haunted painting one of his old teammates brought in. The leftover notes, not just scrawled on the board, but left all over the room: in old case files, stuck to the bottom side of his desk drawers, even etched into the wood of their coffee table. It's a place that's never solely belonged to one person, but seems to have indiscriminately welcomed all sorts of people these past several years.
Back then, he'd called it pleasant, but — yes, Agent Choi is right. It is steadying, knowing it's somewhere that will be here long after Soleum has left.
Finally, he takes the other can left on the table, pinching the tab open. ]
Whenever I come here, it has a warm feeling. It's no wonder you leave a bunch of home goods lying around.
no subject
You don't want to sit?
[C'monnnnn. Relax with your sunbae who you spent all afternoon with. He stares up at him expectantly.]
This place is like a home to us - Bronze feels the same way. [Hence the "home goods." The notes on the board, the beer in the fridge for long days. The blankets in the closet, the silly plastic desk figures they've gotten from grocery stores as free promotional items. But is it because it's all things from other people that Grapes doesn't feel as if it's "his" home, too?]
Even though this is a workplace, it's part of who we are. That's why it feels like home.
[He leans his head back on the sofa, still staring up at him expectantly. The tilt of his head reveals the long length of his scar, jagged and rough.]
Sit with me a bit.
no subject
[ The tug draws his attention off to the side, the greenish veins of his wrist peeking out from where his cuff sleeve has been plucked between his senior's fingers. Fingers that have been stabbed and scraped and nearly severed, now looking no better than a kid's pulling at an adult's compass in order to lead them where they want.
A perplexed knit forms at his brow, listening to him equate home to this windowless room, where a part of their elder still lingers behind a thickset drape. It's not like he disagrees with the sentiment. There's no wonder why they would be attached to this place, to this organization, what they and others before them have been fighting for.
There's a thump as Soleum slides, lands on the couch seat. He gently withdraws his hand from Agent Choi, casting a sidelong look his way. Happy? ]
You should eat some more of the leftover tteokbokki, [ he says, lifting his beer to his mouth with both hands, as if it were a tea cup and not cheap alcohol. ] Since we were saving some, I'm sure didn't have enough.
no subject
Right, right. No use in it going to waste now. Here, you have some, too.
[Now they actually have chopsticks and the food is much cooler, much easier to eat, and washing it down with cold beer helps with the burn from the sauce. He sighs as he sits back and kicks a foot up onto the table.]
I'm going to be tasting this on my tongue all night, now. [He sucks off a bit of sauce from his thumb, glancing at him.] A hot day, and a hot meal... It's best to finish both off with a cold drink and air conditioning. Right?
[He smiles like he made a joke, there, even though there was no punchline, but slowly the smile weakens a little as he looks at Soleum, seems to consider what he's about to say.]
What do you think - Could a place like this be somewhere you feel you belong completely, Grapes?
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Which leaves him with the question, now that some time has passed: What would the rookie of Black Tortoise 1, their Kim Soleum, say?
Scooted to the edge of his seat so that he's able to more conveniently reach the to-go box, it's not hard to avoid Agent Choi's gaze. He takes his time chewing on more rice cake, staring ahead at nothing in particular. ]
What does 'belong completely' mean to you, Agent Choi? Because I'm still not sure yet… I spent a long time at my previous company working toward a goal I wanted to give myself to in that same way, but…
[ Soleum shakes his head, as if to dismiss one of his darker thoughts. ]
I know the bureau and this team aren't a place like that. If possible, I'd like to continue understanding why that is.
[ Let's take on the mask of someone with hope. ]
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[He can't help but chuckle when Soleum shakes his head, at the vague mention of that sham company. He picks up the second to last rice cake, squeezing it between his chopsticks and dragging it through the sauce.]
It's kind of like the boy from today, isn't it?
[He pops the rice cake into his mouth, speaking while eating.]
Many things linger in life because of their attachment to some sentimental object. Like a bicycle - Or even a bouquet, left by a mourner. A lot of things can trigger ghosts and spirits to hang back, and to cling to this world. But they can't take them with them - so all they end up doing is causing pointless pain.
[Small or large, that's their effect. Either through certain death or the annoyance of a lost bike, those supernatural hanger-ons are nothing but nuisances for them. Yet they're all based in sadness.]
When I think about it like that, it makes me appreciate the things I have right now. This space, my team, the faith people have in me... Those are things I can't bring with me when I have to be the one to move on. Even if I want them.
[As a function of this job, he thinks about his death more than most people. Rightly or wrongly, he assumes others like him are the same in that respect.]
...Maybe this is cruel, Soleum-ah, but when you move on, I hope that you remember this room. And me, too.
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For the first time, it hits him: He's so young. And yet the Agent Choi in the stories he read was consumed by a ghost story at this age, with that understanding of life, of his role, what he was willing to accept and make peace with, like it was something he was made for — which he was, he was written for it. Another thought bludgeons Soleum over the back of his head: Whatever transpires when he leaves, whether he escapes to his former employer in shame or hopefully returns to where he should have been all along, he won't know what happens to this person.
The inner linings of his heart run both hot and cold at once. Expanding, compressing. Leaving nothing in-between. ]
Am I a bicycle to you?
[ He hopes Agent Choi ignores it, the tautness squeezed around his voice, and just enjoys his pitiful attempt at a joke.
He needs another drink, so he takes a long one. Looks down at the leftover fizz bubbling in the rim of his can, his thumbnail scratching into the notch. ]
That's… not something you have to worry about. There are a lot of people who will remember you. [ This room, this team. What it was all for, and the torch that's been passed on. ] That ajumma, Agent Bronze-nim, the agents here… No matter where you go, there will be someone who wants to hang on to you. You're that kind of person.
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[But isn't it just like their Grapes, to turn a selfish staement about clinging to life into something that makes Agent Choi seem better than he is? He did say he wanted to be more like him before. Is that what it is to him? Smoking, having people who respect him... That's surely not what he meant then, either, is it?]
[He drops his gaze for a moment, as if abandoning what he was going to ask. Then raises it. Still smiling, but it's still pained, too. A little uneasy, as if he's about to say something kind of embarrassing and even he recognizes it.]
Will you?
[His holds his drink between two fingers and his thumb. There's a long scar right beside his life line on his palm and he remembers making it, himself. Spilling blood to save Bronze from a monstrous beast, drawing its attention toward his scent. The anger in the other agent's eyes when he realized what he was doing. The betrayal, the fury that he would put himself at risk for his sake. But of course he would - he would do anything, at that moment, to make sure Agent Bronze came back with him. And that hand holding Soleum's beer, the one that occasionally shoots Choi a thumbs up as Soleum stares on in unenthused silence - isn't it proof they're so much the same already?]
You'll hang onto me, too, won't you?
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[ Muttered to himself. His fingers drag through his ruffled hair, thinking, buying time.
It's not a set of words Soleum ever expected to hear from the agent, but it's not completely out of character; he was always a sentimental person. Someone who cares deeply for human life, and for the teammates that walk shoulder-to-shoulder with him into each disaster. Though different pockets of fans were more passionate about his relationship to certain other named characters, Soleum never participated or gave much thought to those discussions. Agent Choi was someone who cared for various people at various points of his story. That was just part of who he was and what made him so interesting.
Probably, it's just jarring for Soleum to hear, knowing that he isn't a fixture in this world. Confusion colors over the faint flush splitting his cheeks, hopefully enough to mask his fluster, or at least blame it on the beer. ]
Of course. I'm always thinking of the well-being of my seniors.
[ There was only ever going to be one correct answer to Agent Choi's questions. And it isn't the truth. ]
Um, would you like some wa…
[ The question never finishes. He's partially pushed off the couch, about to make toward the fridge, when, at last, he steals glance back at him — and somehow that worsens his awkwardness, seeing the uncertainty there in his smile amid the sheepishness. A little self-deprecating, like he knew already how Soleum was going to respond. He stumbles in that half-up, half-down position, grabbing on to the table to balance himself, a splash of his beer stickying the front of his shirt, dripping down the hand holding the can. Ah, really…
At least this he can handle. A few droplets dribble onto the table's surface as he places the can down, hurriedly sucking some of the liquid from his fingers to avoid dripping any further on the couch. But after a moment, he pauses at the futility, seeming to give up. ]
I'm sorry, sir, I… [ Ugh, where are his words right now? Soleum sighs. ] Have you ever heard… something called the 'crab-bucket effect'? It's when one person tries to grow or better themselves. But the others hanging on to them drag them back down.
…I wouldn't want to do that to you.
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[He blinks out of the thoughts when the beer splashes and habitually reaches forward to help, but stills as Soleum recovers. He begins to lean to the side to fetch a pile of napkins left in the tteokbokki box but he only sets his hand on top of them when he starts giving more of a reply. Something more... Soleum-like. The kind of reply he was actually expecting, rather than the stale, bland one he first gave him.]
...What's with that - You think I'm not strong enough to pull us both out?
[He grins, looking a little smug. It's a facade, naturally, but it's fine for now.]
I've heard of that before. I don't think it works for people, though. We aren't mindless seafood, Soleum-ah, we all work together to better each other.
[He finally holds out the napkins but doesn't give them up, instead taking the chance to press them into his shirt, blotting at the spilled beer and reaching for his sticky hand next, still gleaming with the result of his own attempt to clean up.]
If I get drunk and Jaekwan-ie has to carry me home, he doesn't scold me for dragging him back into the bucket, right? You know?
[Like that's at all the same as what he's asking of Soleum. Like spending a tipsy night hanging off your junior's shoulder is the same as wanting your maknae to remember you when you're inevitably gone. Slowly he drags the napkin over his fingers, squeezing his wrist to keep him still as he speaks. If he gets up to get water or something stupid, he really might tackle him - so once his hand is dry he tosses the napkins to instead thread their fingers together. No escape now.]
Besides, what if outside the bucket is the deep fryer? [He rolls his thumb along the underside of Soleum's thumb, still looking at him with that hollow, default smirk.] You wouldn't feel bad for letting me go?
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His fingers curl, putting up a weak struggle that ultimately goes nowhere, leaving their hands pressed wrist to wrist, veins against veins. This Agent Choi reminds him of the one he encountered in the Faceless Market, cornering him in a place he wasn't supposed to be. Like he's close to hitting gold after picking and wearing away at all of Soleum's locks and deadbolts.
But even back then, it hadn't been gold, he'd been after. It was something else. His dokkaebi hand rises, coming up as if to fend off the expectation in his senior's gaze. ]
If I had a bad feeling, I wouldn't let you go in blind. I'd leave everything I have to you…
[ That's how it comes out. A strained answer, at the end of his rope. ]
But you — you're not someone who changes his mind easily. If you were trying to leave to somewhere where you knew nothing about the risks, there must be a reason for it. Someone you could help. It wouldn't feel right to keep you away from that.
[ Behind his hand, Soleum body hunches into himself, his head hanging low as a frustrated sigh pushes out from him. ]
Ah, really! I-I wish you weren't so stubborn. Do you always have to go this far to push me around…?